


Prey

by lacemonster



Series: Prey [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time, Forced Orgasm, Forced Sex, Handcuffs, Humiliation, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mind Break, Multiple Orgasms, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Pseudo-Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Shame, Size Difference, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture, Underage Sex, wingcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 22:24:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10397526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacemonster/pseuds/lacemonster
Summary: Dick has been bested by his parallel self--Talon, the Richard Grayson of Earth-3. But the situation worsens when Talon lures Damian in as well.Extreme content. Please note the tags and warnings before reading this story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> NOTICE
> 
> This fic has explicit elements, including non-con/rape and underage content. DO NOT read this story until you've read the tags and warnings. I have done my best to go back through the entire story and make note of everything to tag BUT I AM NOT PERFECT. If I miss anything, please let me know and I will add it to the tags. However, that being said, you have been warned. Anyone who doesn't heed to the warnings will have their comments ignored and deleted.
> 
> Hoo boy. Okay, so this fic basically started out as a tiny thought. Anyone who knows my work knows that I love Dick Grayson--and at some point, I thought, "what would be better than one Dick Grayson but TWO Dick Graysons?" because I'm just that strange. And it sort of became a silly, but admittedly enticing, idea of Talon!Dick/Nightwing!Dick, which I nicknamed "wingcest" on twitter and tumblr (haha get it? because they're like clones and it's like incest and they both have bird names--okay, I know its bad, but that's what I'm calling it so shush).
> 
> And then of course, being the DickDami trash that I am, I wondered how everything would play if Damian was mixed up into this all. I feel like in some ways, Talon!Dick and Damian would be on the same wavelength of fucked-up. But even so, I feel like for Damian, no one can compare to the real Grayson!
> 
> And uh, things escalated from there, and I ended up writing over 9k of filthy porn and forcing my "wingcest" ideas onto all of my friends on tumblr and twitter because I'm awful.
> 
> I normally don't write non-con. I tried it once YEARS ago. Usually my writing comes close--but it plays more along the lines of dubcon. That being said, if you've read my previous stories, do not be fooled! This is definitely non-con, at least in the case of Talon/Everyone Else.
> 
> Also inb4: Yes, I know that the "evil" Richard Grayson can also be Earth-2 Richard Grayson. And yes, I know that the same Richard Grayson has been killed off. But honestly, if you're looking for things that make sense, this story is not for you. Some of the sex in this isn't even realistic, tbh. This is just dirty, awful, smut.

 

Richard Grayson entered, the heavy steel door shutting behind him with a sound that reverberated throughout the room. With graceful steps and a composed expression, he walked to the center of the dimly lit room, slowing to a stop when he neared the body on the tiled floor. He crouched down, reaching for the fallen boy.

“How are you doing, Damian?” he said almost gently, turning Damian’s head off the floor. The boy’s cheek was still smushed against the polished floors.

“Don’t call me that,” Damian said furiously, and he seemed almost ready to spit in the man’s face. Again.

“I’m sorry. Robin.” Damian shut his mouth but his eyes still burned. He didn’t appear to like the correction any better than hearing his given name come out of Richard’s mouth. Blue eyes looked down at him, sympathetically. “Don’t give me such a pained look—I can hardly stand it.”

“Pathetic, imbecilic, _bastard_ —”Damian started but he was cut short, flinching.

“Don’t look at me like I’m the one at fault,” Richard said, dark brows furrowed in feigned hurt. Richard kept twisting the object that had been sitting in his hand—Damian gritted his teeth, emitting a strangled groan. “You were the one who came after me, _remember_?”

Another twist. Damian’s eyes shut tight. He managed to keep silent this time but his face was starting to redden all over again.

“On this Earth, such trust is considered loyalty,” Richard said idly. He kept moving his hand, watching Damian in a way that seemed almost transfixed.

Richard had voiced many times how cute he found Damian to be—how his scowls were so reminiscent of Richard’s mentor. This opinion seemed unchanged. He took the utmost pleasure in watching Damian. Damian had been stripped of his mask, cape, and utility belt long ago. The pants and boots as well, although those had been taken in a hurry—were tossed casually aside while the rest of his clothing remained. Settled snugly inside of Damian’s ass was the end of an escrima stick, which Richard continued to toy with, slowly pulling it back and forth—a little deeper each time. Damian’s well lubed hole made gentle squelching sounds in response, and it was almost all that could be heard in the vacant room.

Richard continued, speaking clearly, “On my Earth, this never would have happened. Trust is considered a weakness. Loyalty is proven through actions.”

Damian turned his head a little, burying his face back into the ground. Muffling and hiding his facial reactions. The end of the escrima was blunt, the object stiff and long, and it was not at all comfortable every time it penetrated Damian—deeper and deeper. At best, it felt strange. At worst, it hurt. But Richard paid no mind—he let Damian turn his head how he pleased. He ran his hand almost lovingly down Damian’s cheek and thigh—which were forced to stay propped up or else the escrima would bury itself painfully—and felt the smooth skin. The wandering hand trailed back up, running over the crease of Damian’s ass, grazing over where the escrima was buried inside the boy sidekick’s plump ass. Damian reacted to the touch, goosebumps rising on his skin, hands clenching and unclenching in the intricate handcuffs that kept his hands bound behind his back.

“However, that being said, _true_ weakness is failing to protect one’s assets.” Richard turned the direction of his head, facing a man tied up in a chair. With a soft smile, he said, “So really, this is all your fault, Nightwing.”

Dick stared back at the copy of himself, from his place in a chair a few feet away. A surgical chair—a fact that still admittedly made him nervous, given the small box sitting on a rolling table not too far away. The box had contained their chains but Dick still wasn't confident that it was empty. His arms were bound in the same handcuffs as Damian’s—unbreakable and unpickable, even with all his experience—except they were attached to the armrests, and his ankles were attached similarly to the chair’s barred foot rest. Dick wasn’t sure how the man— _Talon_ , as he knew him—expected him to respond with the tape over his mouth, so he settled for glaring at him instead.

The past few hours—had it been hours? The room was undecorated, without so much as a clock—had been unbearable. If it wasn’t difficult enough being captured, Talon had managed to trick Damian by pretending to be Dick—could it be pretending? Technically, they were the same person, just from separate universes—and brought him here. Dick was racked with guilt that he had not only let himself slip into the enemy’s hand, but that his failure had resulted in Damian getting dragged into the same mess. On top of that, it hurt Dick to know that Damian was only in the same room because he had wanted to _trust Dick_.

Since then, they had been trapped in the same room together. Talon had bound Damian with a short chain linking a collar around his neck to a ring in the center of the floor—something that seemed _more_ than planned, in Dick’s opinion, no matter how quickly this all happened—and stripped him of most of his clothes, before assaulting the boy. It had been blood-boiling to watch Talon humiliate Damian, penetrating him with fingers and tongue and finally Dick’s _weapon_ , of all things. The length of the escrima stick helped it stay propped in Damian while Talon ran off to do God knows what—Dick suspected Talon just wanted his parallel to _watch_ —and left them alone, with Dick’s chair bolted to the ground directly behind Damian. Dick had been trying to keep his eyes shut or diverted for long periods of time, but his gaze always somehow or other ended up flickering in the direction of Damian’s exposed and filled ass. And with them both bound, and Dick’s mouth sealed shut, neither of them were able to work out a plan to escape.

Even now, watching Talon toy with the escrima inside of Damian’s ass was more than Dick could handle. His heart was racing, chest swelling with rage and disgust, as he listened to the slick sounds of Damian’s violation.

He had watched Damian get punched by men twice his size. Watched him get kicked, get cut, get _stabbed_ , and he had never remembered feeling so _angry_. This felt like an ultimate low.

Dick’s eyes landed on Damian just as the escrima was pulled out completely, Damian’s hole clenching around the open space. The object fell to the floor, its end wet from the lubrication. Talon reached in, hands still gloved, into Damian’s hole. Three fingers plunging in, far more dextrous than the blunt object. Pumping in and out at a rapid speed. Damian kept silent but his thighs seemed to tremble in response.

“Very good,” Talon said, as if Damian had passed some sort of test. Talon took the fingers out, reaching into one of the pouches on his belt. More lubricant, which Talon spread over Damian’s entrance. The lube seemed to glisten, wet and beginning to slowly drip down Damian’s thighs. The fingers moved back in again, the sounds louder. More lewd sounding. Each thrust of the fingers seemed to glide right in, easily. Dick couldn’t hear Damian well but he thought he caught a staggered breath.

After a few minutes of fingering, Talon finally relinquished. He moved to the ring bolted into the ground, undoing the binds on the link. Talon dragged Damian to his feet by collar and chain, forcefully leading him in Dick’s direction.

At this, Dick tensed. He didn’t like that Talon had his gaze on him—and that he was still carrying Damian along with him. Once he was within distance, Talon ripped off the tape that had kept Dick silent. It hurt but Dick didn’t so much as flinch. He didn’t dare to. He just eyed Talon down, waiting for him to make his move.

But Talon just pulled Damian by the links, as close as he could bring him to Dick before he was halted by the chair. Dick wasn’t sure where to look—he tried to look past Damian… anywhere but downwards at Damian’s naked half, really.

“Do you want to kiss him?”

Dick couldn’t even react. The question seemed so preposterous. Almost instinctively, his gaze landed on Damian’s lips, which were closed shut. His eyes then travelled to the rest of Damian’s face. The boy’s expression seemed to be a mix of incredulity and discomfort. He looked back at Dick awkwardly, seeming uncertain of what Dick would do next.

Dick refused to join in on this cruelty, even if it meant punishment. All Talon wanted was to play these cruel games. If he wanted them dead, he would have done it already. All he wanted was to _toy_ with them, and Dick was trapped and could not do a thing, so all he could do to fight back was to remain levelheaded. And so, he kept his jaw clenched shut. He didn’t say a word, much less participate.

“Come on, Nightwing,” Talon said, voice teasing—in a way that made Dick all the more rueful. He hated the way that voice and tone sounded _familiar_. Damian’s gaze diverted, his expression seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable as Talon went on. “Hasn’t he been good? Don’t you think your boy has earned a kiss?”

Dick wished his hands were free. Not just to escape, but to throttle Talon by the neck and catch the wind right out of his throat.

“No?” Talon said, face falling into what almost seemed like pity. The look was false. False, false, false. Dick forced his expression to remain hardened. Talon just shook his head a little. “I see.”

Before Dick could blink, Talon yanked Damian by the collar and crushed his lips against his. Dick’s breath caught in his throat, and before he could even think to yell at Talon to stop, his other self had already pulled away. Damian just stared in wide-eyed surprise, and for once, even he struggled to come up with a proper curse.

In a movement as quick as a blur, Talon grabbed Damian by the back of his hair and forced his head downwards, his head landing in the crook between the chair and Dick’s spread thighs. Dick immediately tensed, not sure what was happening. Damian was reanimated, a flurry of curse words and growls, rocking back and forth as he struggled against Talon’s forceful pin. Talon moved over Damian, using his weight and an arm on Damian’s back to keep him on the chair.

Dick saw Talon moving around and suddenly couldn’t breathe.

Talon tugged his belt and pants past his hips, enough to reveal his erection—something hidden underneath the uniform that Dick had never noticed until now. With one hand, he managed to pop open the bottle of lubricant. He was touching himself, coating his cock. Damian was snapping insults, completely going off when he had no idea what was in store, in contrast to Dick who knew _exactly_ where this was all going and had suddenly forgotten how to speak. He found himself pulling against the chains instead, the adjustable part of the chair rocking but the rests—and its legs folded—staying firmly in place. Trapped. As he knew he was, but he pulled anyways, desperately, because he couldn’t just let this happen—

A sound was caught in Damian’s voice, breaking, when Talon began to push the head of his cock inside of Damian. Damian had been well-prepped, and despite their size differences, Talon managed to get the head of his cock inside. There was a shift in his blue eyes, they seemed to almost _soften_ in response, as he continued to push his cock slowly into Damian… deeper and deeper.

Meanwhile, Damian finally stilled, his body tense. Dick couldn’t catch the boy’s gaze but he could hear a choked sound coming from the back of Damian’s throat. His former sidekick’s ears were flushed red, his voice unlike anything Dick had heard before, as Talon continued to penetrate him. Slowly burying every inch of his cock inside.

When Talon stopped, his hips meeting with Damian’s, Dick finally stopped pulling on the chains.

He stared down and was so horrified with what he was seeing he immediately felt his stomach turn. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to recompose himself. But even with his eyes shut, he could still see the image in the back of his eyelids. Damian, being taken by this monster. _Damian_.

There was a short cry. Dick’s gaze immediately snapped open, fear striking his chest. He saw Talon’s fist tangled in Damian’s short hair, yanking his head up. Dick’s stomach dropped, face to face with his former sidekick. The boy’s face was on full display, his face reddened, mouth parted as soft sounds escaped past his pink lips, brow furrowed slightly. But what shocked Dick the most were his eyes—looking directly into him, without the interference of their masks, wet and shiny with a layer of desperation and pain. Damian didn’t tear his gaze away, and Dick felt an almost _obligation_ to stare back into Damian’s eyes as he was taken—as if, to convey through their locked gazes, that he was there for him. That he was sorry that he couldn’t do more.

Dick didn’t understand why this was happening until he caught Talon’s face in his peripherals. He looked over Damian’s shoulder, saw Talon’s eyes—which up until this point, had played on this thin line between mischief and cruelty, but was now blatantly sadistic. His blue eyes and long smirk felt cold and victorious all at once. Dick felt almost frozen while they locked gazes, unable to recall the last time he faced something so sinister.

And yet, it still seemed as if he was staring into a mirror.

But then Talon yanked again, and Damian’s eyes clenched shut, a strangled sound behind clenched teeth. The chains rattled lightly—Dick didn’t realize he had been pulling at them again until he heard Talon’s mirthful breath. The laughter was almost chilling, especially disturbing to know he was hearing it in his own voice.

After showing off to Dick what he had conquered, Talon pushed Damian’s head back down forcefully. His head landed on the top of Dick’s thigh this time. At the contact, Dick went rigid. He could feel the boy panting against him, each breath fanning on his leg. It felt warm, each exhale landing dangerously close to between Dick’s legs, and with each of Talon’s hard thrusts, Damian’s head bumped against Dick’s hip.

“ _Mm_ , Teacher, you need to train your boy better,” Talon said in a light, chiding voice. The hand in Damian’s hair slowly travelled down Damian’s back, along the spine. It ended at the hem of Damian’s vest, where he pushed it up and flattened it against the boy’s back. The lifted hem and the position revealed _everything_ to Dick: Damian’s head down, back arched, narrow hips pulled up. Dick could see the dimples in the small of his back down to the crease of his ass that was spread wide, Talon’s thick cock buried deep inside and splitting him open. Dick felt his heart race. Talon went on in that mocking voice, “He’s still so _tight_.”

“Go to hell,” Damian murmured, a growl in the back of his voice. His lips moved against Dick’s leg with each word. Dick nearly closed his eyes in exasperation, silently cursing Damian's inability to keep his attitude in check.

Lightning quick, Talon’s hand landed against Damian’s ass. The force sent a tremor up Damian’s small body, but Damian didn’t make a sound. A spike of fury crawled up Dick’s chest, breaking through his shocked daze.

“He does have a great tolerance to pain though, it seems,” Talon murmured, and the hand came down on the same spot. The sound of skin slapping on skin permeated the room, but Damian was resolute. Talon continued to goad, his hips pushing in deep, _down to the base_ —fuck, Dick could see it _all_. “Come on, little bird. Chirp for me.”

Another slap. Damian’s skin is bright red. There was a hint of a sound, one that Talon momentarily stilled for, but Damian had caught it in time. Talon just made a small sound under his breath and both hands moved to Damian’s hips, grabbing onto him, the thumbs digging into Damian’s hips. He fucked him deeper, harder, using his hips to control his thrusts. Dick watched Damian’s hands, still locked in position by the bonds, twist and clench at the speed. Talon’s body seemed to flex with every drive forward, the full strength of his body powering every thrust, skin slapping against skin. Damian was pushed so far forward that the top of his head was digging into Dick’s lower abdomen now.

Dick felt his stomach twist, wanting Talon to stop, but words could make it worse so he kept his mouth clamped shut. He wanted to tell Damian that it was okay, that he was doing really good, that he was there for him—but he quickly rejected the impulse, knowing it'd only lead to mocking or more punishment. The cuffs around Dick’s wrists were digging into his skin as he struggled to move his hands. Tried to find a flaw in the steel trap, even though he had been doing that for hours already. His toes curled at every sound, every breath, on the movements above him.

Talon moved one of his hands. Dick heard the noise of fabric, glanced down in time to watch Talon snake one of his hands underneath Damian’s vest. Dick couldn’t see Damian’s face but he felt the boy turn his head, as if burying his face into Dick, as Talon’s hand travelled up his clothes to his chest.

Dick knew what Talon was doing. His own heart was hammering from all the stress—he wanted to stop Talon but didn’t know how, and he couldn’t mentally accept the inevitability that he and Damian were going to have to _let it happen_.

Damian wasn’t saying anything but Dick could feel his breaths getting heavier, each exhale landing on Dick’s crotch—a sensation that Dick was desperately trying to block out of his mind, trying to focus elsewhere. But his whole head was a turmoil of adrenaline and pain and disgust and fear and worry and guilt. Damian was struggling against Talon’s ministrations, the thrusts inside his body and the tweaks at his nipple, and Dick could catch the trace of Talon’s playful smile, his gaze dark and locked onto Dick’s, in a way that made Dick freeze in place.

“Don’t tell me he’s a virgin,” Talon said. Damian let out this sharp noise between his teeth—Dick noticed the shift underneath the fabric, Talon’s hand twisting on the nipple. “He’s so cute, I just wish I could keep him and play with him forever. I can't imagine not wanting to claim him for yourself.”

Almost affectionately, Talon kissed the top of Damian’s head. Dick couldn’t help but glare at him, which, if Talon noticed when he straightened his back, he didn’t comment on. He kept rolling his hips into Damian at a steady pace. Hand teasing his chest. Talon let out a soft moan, quiet but explicit sounding.

“If you were mine, I wouldn’t let anyone touch you,” Talon said, nose buried in Damian’s hair, but speaking clearly enough for Dick to hear every word—because every word was intended specifically for Dick. To antagonize him, make him feel lesser, and it worked. Dick’s blood was boiling—but there was also a sense of shame. For letting this happen. For being unable to fix this. A sense of inadequacy. “I’d take care of you every night, give you what you _need_ —”a hard thrust, Damian squirmed against Dick’s lap”—and I’d kill anyone who tried to touch you.”

He was just trying to get on Dick’s nerves. Dick knew the game he was trying to play, using words to get into their heads. To manipulate them. But it was hard holding back the rage. Hard not to yell and scream and thrash in the chair. Especially as Damian’s struggling began to increase. Talon had been working him at a pace for awhile, allowing the full drag of his cock to slide into Damian over and over again until his body was accustomed to the size, easily accepting the length and girth. Even Damian had to have his limits.

But while Damian was no more or less vocal, the sounds did _change_. Dick could catch the hitches in his voice, the slight drawn out sounds of his exhales. His hisses and growls and insults had all disappeared, melting into instinctual sounds. Sounds that became less and less protesting.

“Maybe I can take you back with me,” Talon said, his voice a touch lower. Dick wanted nothing more than to kick him in the throat so he would just stop _talking_. “I know how frustrating it can be, little bird. When I was your age, I was _begging_ to be in Owlman’s bed. It’s so difficult to be left unsatisfied. If you stayed with me and Owlman, we’d never leave you unattended. We’d keep you in a nice cage, maybe put a collar on you so you wouldn’t get lost. Feed you and bathe you and take turns petting you.”

Words. Just words. But that didn’t stop his mind from processing them, imagining these two grown men, these sadists, taking Damian home with them. Taking turns toying with him and tying him up and fucking him. It didn't stop the anger. There was a slight ache in Dick’s body, prickling at the side of his body where Talon kept pushing Damian into him with each thrust. Sweat gathering on his wrists where the shackles pressed against his skin. He knew he wouldn’t be able to escape, as much as he tried _anyways_. But he felt guilty for wishing that Talon would just _hurry up and finish_.

Then there was this _noise_ , something that Dick didn’t even register as Damian’s at first. A low moan. Talon heard it too, it was hard _not_ to, and Dick just now caught the movement of Talon’s hand travelling down Damian’s body. Between his legs.

“Do you need help?” Talon said, and he spoke so naturally that Dick almost believed him. That he was trying to _help_ Damian.

_Don’t touch him_ , he wanted to say when Damian jerked away, trying to get away from Talon’s hand.

_No_ , he thought when Damian let out a soft whine, like he had been waiting for it. When he stopped _fighting_.

“This is why you need to keep a closer eye on your boy, Nightwing, otherwise a Talon will come and snatch him up,” Talon said, chuckling low.

Talon suddenly hooked an arm around Damian, pulling him off of Dick. Dick’s lap felt oddly empty without Damian’s warmth on him and he began to worry, not sure what Talon had in mind next. Dick swallowed, watching as Talon leaned back onto his knees on the ground. Damian was placed upright, sitting on Talon’s thighs. His back was pressed against Talon’s chest, head lolled back on his captor’s shoulder. Talon kept an arm wrapped around Damian, holding him in place, fucking him upright. A position that might not have worked if Damian wasn’t so light—a fact that Dick tried not to focus on.

In the new position, Dick could see exactly where Talon drove into Damian. Could see the entire slide of his cock into Damian’s hole. Could see the stretch, accepting and swallowing every inch of Talon’s erection.

And he could see Damian’s half-hard member bouncing between his legs.

Dick didn't want to look but he felt frozen in place with each of Damian’s cries. He was lost in his expression, gaze fixated on Damian’s growing erection, and he couldn't tell. Couldn't tell if Damian’s voice sang of his pain or his pleasure.

And worse was Talon. His dark hair that fell into his face, his blue eyes and olive complexion… A perfect reflection of Dick’s image. There were some differences—the placement and shape of their scars, the definition of their muscles, but in every other way they were identical.

And with Damian in Talon’s arms, it almost looked like—

Dick stopped that thought, feeling a warmth on his skin, followed by a feeling of shame.

Talon was fucking Damian at his own pace now. Damian seemed like a ragdoll at this point, boneless in Talon’s grip as the man held and fucked him as he pleased. Hips driving his thrusts upwards into Damian’s small body. A body too young and powerless against this man. And the entire time, Damian’s sounds seemed to crescendo. In tune with Talon’s thrusts, their hips meeting with a loud sound. The lubricant still keeping Damian wet, kept him sliding and falling onto Talon’s hard-on.

Talon reached up and the vest was popped open. A hand parted the folds away, the garment sinking off one of Damian’s shoulders. The underclothes pushed up. Dick hadn't seen this much of Damian’s skin in his entire life.

He didn't expect it to be enticing as it was.

But Damian’s body had always been something forbidden, even in innocent situations. Damian was always fully dressed, even for bed and for working out. And the amount of scars on the young boy’s body should have been disturbing but it was also distinctly _him_ and it just added to his character. This little warrior. Dick’s boy sidekick. His skin color was this beautiful brown and looked smooth to the touch and Dick felt envious of Talon’s hand, large against the boy’s body.

Damian’s nipples were standing, likely due to Talon’s earlier teasing. He grabbed onto one, pulling hard, and Damian let out this soft whine that sent a sensation down Dick’s spine.

Talon’s hands went back and forth between tweaking Damian’s nipples and stroking Damian’s leaking cock. Damian was fully hard now, there was no denying it, and his eyes were twisted shut and his sounds strangled but still so loud. And it was almost like Damian was unrecognizable—because this was a boy who never expressed pleasure. This was a boy who never physically, or personally, revealed himself in any way more than reluctant satisfaction.

And now he was nearly naked, his face slowly melting into pleasure. Lips parting with light, almost pained moans. Nipples peaked. Cockhead glistening. Hole stretched out. Body flushed.

All from getting fucked.

Fucked by a man who looked like Dick but _wasn't_ Dick.

“Come on, little bird. Come for me,” Talon said, smirk playing on his lips.

His cock kept slamming into Damian, pounding the spot that made Damian whine every time. His hand finally settled on his cock for good, pumping fast. Damian’s pitch raised, voice breaking as he finally cried out, loud enough for Dick to hear clearly. Over and over again.

His hips were stuttering. Eyes rolling back beneath dark lashes. Tremors down his body and quivering thighs. He was going to come. Talon was going to make him come. He took his kiss and his virginity and he was going to bring him to orgasm.

Damian cried out, voice drawn out. Body shaking. Talon jerked him through his orgasm, seed shooting onto the ground in Dick’s direction, landing just a pace away from his footrest. Coming and coming until Damian started giving these pained sounds, until finally Talon relented and stopped touching his sensitive cock.

Damian’s body visibly relaxed in Talon’s arms—but his face was contorted, looking torn between the pleasure of his orgasm and his shame. His small breaths had the undertone of something painful and remorseful to them and Dick felt his heart twist, knowing he should _be there_ , but the bonds on his wrists and ankles seemed heavier than ever.

Talon’s glove was coated in Damian’s seed. He reached up to Damian’s mouth but Damian, face wrinkling, turned his head. Talon settled for rubbing his fingers over Damian’s lips and chin instead, wiping off the excess semen that dripped onto Talon’s hand. Dirtying the tidy-oriented Damian’s face with his own ejaculate.

As sick as it was, Dick felt glad it was over. Damian looked exhausted and used and broken. Damian was lifted off Talon's cock, placed on his knees back on the ground. Damian’s upper half immediately sagged to the ground, the top of his head nearly touching the toe of Dick’s boot.

And then Talon lifted himself to get behind him.

“ _Stop_ —”Dick started, and Talon paid him no mind while Damian caught on. But before Damian could move, Talon was pulling on his hips. Keeping him in place. And then entered him again.

Damian let out this cry that sent a shudder through Dick’s body. Talon pushed all the way in with a single thrust, deep into Damian’s overly sensitive body which was already shuddering from the feeling of being reentered.

“Spoiled boy,” Talon murmured, and it was amazing how quickly he could shift from playful to menacing and back again. “No discipline. No respect for the natural order. You’ve already been defeated—just accept your place and _submit_.”

Damian wasn’t arguing. Wasn’t even fighting back. Talon pulled on him, got him back into the same position he had him before. Resting on the top of his knees. And Dick knew why Talon favored this position—because it allowed Dick to watch Damian as he got fucked. It forced Dick to look into Damian’s face as he came. This was all for Dick, just in the same way that he and Talon had locked eyes over Damian’s shoulder as Talon pushed into him for the first time.

This was for Dick. Dick was the audience and Damian was just a prop in Talon’s performance.

Damian’s face was all twisted up, and even though Talon had no way of _knowing_ , he still said to Dick, “When he scowls, he looks like my mentor. Is it the same for you?”

Don't think about Bruce.

Talon was fucking Damian more briskly than ever, was wantonly expressing his own pleasure through long moans every time he drove into Damian’s body.

Talon mouthed at Damian’s ear. Lapped at the tears of frustration beginning to slowly build up in the corner of Damian’s eyes, from being fucked so fast and hard so shortly after his orgasm. A natural reaction from the abuse that just didn't seem to end. Talon just whispered soft things against Damian’s cheek, words that Dick knew he didn't want to hear but wished he could so Damian wouldn't have to listen to it alone.

Body oversensitive with pleasure, Damian’s usual rigid silence had long been broken—now crying out openly, without abandon, at every thrust. Talon’s fingertips dug deeply onto the exposed thigh, holding him flush against his body as he fucked up into Damian. Harder and faster. Their bodies clapping against each other.

The flush on Damian’s body deepened. He appeared to be sweating, a faintest sheen near his hairline. He had been doing this for awhile. Too long, Dick knew. It was more than his body had any right to handle and he was doing so good and he deserved to be free, if only for a break. But Talon’s pace was unforgiving, continuing to roll up his hips, bouncing Damian in his lap, at breakneck speed.

And Talon was more vocal, crooning things into Damian’s ear, lips so close it almost kissed the shell. Every exhale audible. Until finally, with a deep groan, he pushed all the way up into Damian—and came.

Damian made this short, choked noise—stopped only by when he forcefully closed his mouth shut. Eyes clenched tight as he was filled with hot, thick come. Dick stared as Talon’s ejaculate began to leak from Damian’s ass, down Talon’s shaft to his balls. With a soft, almost happy, sigh—Talon easily lifted Damian off of him. Seed slowly dripped from Damian’s widened hole to his inner thighs, in an image that seemed to burn a place in Dick’s mind.

Dick stared, feeling hot underneath his kevlar suit. Unbearably hot. His chest felt tight, his flesh raised. And that was the moment when Dick finally recognized the tightness of his suit.

He was hard.

He was turned on.

As much as the whole situation disgusted him, watching his former sidekick was highly erotic. Damian was lifted up like he was nothing, his face looking debauched from the abuse of his overly sensitive ass—which had been stretched for possibly hours, and eventually was fucked long and hard even after he came. He was still gasping and panting—the sounds alone highly arousing—and seemed to be positioned in such a lewd display that anyone would've hardened at the sight.

He was still Damian, just a new side of him. He still had that cute face that Dick was so fond of, and that soft looking hair and beautiful eyes and long lashes and smooth skin. And he was just as gorgeous now, but this time, he was utterly fucked and wrecked and it was all done by a man who, in every respect, _could have been him_.

And he was ashamed to admit it but he wish it really had been him. Not out of the courtesy of taking away Damian’s fear and shame—for nothing could have been as horrifying as Talon’s abuse—but out of selfish desire.

In retrospect, yes. He wished he had claimed Damian before anyone else had.

He knew his comrade was suffering. For every ounce of shame, he also felt anger at Talon. Dick pulled at the cuffs strapped at his wrists, even knowing that it was useless. A single thought filled his mind: _Talon must pay._

At the rattle in chains, Talon looked at him. In contrast to Damian, who looked utterly ashamed, Talon’s expression was impossibly blissful. The face of a man who thoroughly enjoyed himself at the expense of others with zero remorse. A man who reached orgasm by _fucking Dick’s former sidekick_.

“I'll kill you,” Dick said, and it was scary, because he couldn't recall the last time—if ever—he had made that threat. And it was scarier still because he wasn't sure how much he meant it. Talon just pulled up his pants and got up. He fixed himself, rubbing whatever remainders of seed he might have had on his glove back on Damian’s face. Damian didn't even fight him, didn't even turn his head like before. He seemed only preoccupied in catching his breath and seeing what Talon’s next move was.

“Don't worry,” Talon said, smiling almost fondly at Dick. “I haven't forgotten you.”

Talon grabbed Damian by his collar, forcing him to stumble along on his knees towards Dick. Dick stopped pulling at the chains, realizing that Damian was getting closer and closer, and that thought suddenly terrified Dick.

Talon forced Damian in place before Dick’s hard erection.

Damian stared at it, blinking.

A flush rushed up the center of Dick’s chest to his face, burning behind his cheeks, eyes and ears.

“Damian, I—”he started, but he had no proper excuse. He shouldn't have been aroused. He shouldn't have been. But the last thing he wanted was for Damian to know that he was. Dick wished he could make him understand.

But then Talon’s hands were on Dick, and Dick immediately flinched, rocking back in the chair but going nowhere. Talon’s hands were moving lightning quick, a blade withdrawn. It moved toward Dick and Dick instantly panicked. Even Damian reacted, trying to rise up—but Talon’s knee came down, placing his weight on the center of Damian’s upper back, keeping the boy pinned to the chair.

“Stay still,” Talon said, almost impatiently. “You wouldn't want me to miss.”

Indeed, Dick didn't—because the tip of the blade was cutting into the Nightwing suit, near the groin. That part of his suit was less enforced for the sake of mobility, and Talon cut through the weaker seams with relative ease.

Both Dick and Damian stilled as Talon did his work, cutting through Dick’s clothing and the straps of his cup, revealing the hardened flesh underneath. Dick was half expecting Talon to say something mocking or gross at the erection but he seemed focused, like he had a job to do.

Talon grabbed Damian roughly by the hair, pulling his head back. Damian is brought out of his stupor long enough to struggle and voice his complaints when Talon suddenly digs his fingers past Damian’s lips, prying them open—

Dick caught the hint of Damian’s teeth and tongue and it was all too obvious where Talon was going with this.

Oh, _hell no_ —

Dick was reanimated again, hands pulling on the chains.

There was a muffled, uncomfortable groan from Damian—confused, but biting down on the digits anyways, to which Talon grimaced but did not wince, as if finding the bite to be more of a nuisance than actually painful. On the other hand, Damian clearly was not liking the way he was being roughly handled. Not paying attention to Talon as the man led his head closer to Dick’s erection, more focused instead on fighting like an animal being dragged towards its cage.

Dick’s heart was racing at full speed now, adrenaline rushing through him. His breaths were short, on the edge of hyperventilating. Watching was one thing. But _touching_ —

There had to be a way out of this goddamned chair.

Talon opened up Damian’s mouth. He aimed him wrong, getting nothing but the tip of Dick’s cock to rub up against the boy’s cheek.

There had to be a way out.

Talon didn't miss again. Pulled his prying fingers away long enough to get Damian’s mouth over the tip. The boy tried to pull back but Talon’s hand was tight in his hair.

“Enough,” Dick breathed, because there was nothing left he could do.

Damian’s mouth. Hot and wet. Past the tip, moving down his shaft. A crude sound, muffled. Lips vibrating against his flesh.

Dick’s breath ran short. Face burning. Heart hammering.

“Stop,” he gasped.

Damian’s throat, tight around Dick’s cock. Pulsing, _clenching_ , around the member as he struggled to breathe. So tight. So hot. So wet. Sounds, short and frequent, sputtering and struggling around the invasion.

Dick squeezed his eyes shut. Bit down. Clenched his hands into fists. Tried to hold back the pleasure that was pooling through his body. But it was difficult, even as he heard the sounds of Damian’s struggling fill his ears. It was more difficult when the head pulled back to the tip and Dick could catch the inhale of deep breath through nostrils.

Difficult because he had been aching hard this entire time and all he wanted was to feel Damian swallow him to the base again. And he knew it was wrong but a part of him convinced himself that maybe it'd be easier for both of them if he just _let go_.

Dick couldn't catch the words but he could hear Talon’s low whispers, husky tones directed toward Damian. The assassin continued to forcefully bob Damian’s head on Dick’s cock, the slick slide of mouth and throat feeling almost blissful, making Dick gasp. Dick felt like he couldn't breathe, the air pulling out of his lungs. He closed his mouth but couldn't stop grinding his teeth. Because if he did, he'd make another sound. He'd give himself away more than he's done already.

Dick couldn't sit still. He was twisting in the chair, as Talon forced his cock into Damian’s tight throat repeatedly. Tried to hold himself back and failing and all he wanted to do was _scream_.

He finally inhaled, eyes blinking open, and he caught Damian’s face—the boy’s eyes were closed, thankfully, so he couldn't catch Dick’s facial reaction as he gasped. Damian’s mouth looked so stuffed. Dick watched his cock disappear with every stroke, the lips stretched wide and face absolutely red now. Face wet with tears and ejaculate from earlier, long eyelashes rewetting every time Damian choked. Bangs pulled back as Talon yanked on his hair to guide Damian down. All the way down. Until the head of Dick’s cock was bumping against the walls of Damian’s neck.

Dick felt a familiar tension in his body. He wanted to come. He wanted to finish deep inside Damian’s mouth, his throat. Wanted to fill him up so he could swallow or maybe spit it all up, however Talon wanted it. It was fucked up but he was far gone, heat pooling in his groin, and his last sense of control was not thrusting up into Damian’s mouth—however much he wanted to.

But Damian was pulled off completely. Dick looked into his face, lips sore and red and he felt a sudden impulse to kiss him, but he stayed strapped down. Damian hardly looked like himself anymore, his gaze all dark and pupils blown.

Talon let Damian catch his breath longer than Dick expected him to. It almost felt merciful, but nothing about that day had been kind, so Dick’s guard came back up. Anticipating what was to come. Without Damian’s warm lips around his length, the air felt too cool against his wet cock, and Dick stayed hard but he could feel the edge of his orgasm slipping away.

Talon was just preparing them for Round 2. He didn't want Dick to come yet. And while Dick should have seen it coming, he was still in disbelief when Talon adjusted the chair—back pulled down, footrest pulled up. He still wasn't sure if he believed what was happening when Talon easily plucked the exhausted Damian off the ground and on top of the flattened chair.

On top of Dick.

Dick inhaled sharply as Talon grasped his erection, aiming the head along Damian’s entrance. The exhausted boy was having difficulties balancing himself on his spread knees with his hands still bound behind his back, so Talon had to all but pose him like a mannequin, in this weird juggling of bodies with only two hands to maneuver them into the desired positions.

Damian started to sink on Dick’s cock.

Dick remembered thinking that it shouldn't have been as easy as it was.

Damian was too tired to fight, his hole was still wet and stretched and abused from Talon’s fucking, making way for Dick’s cock with ease. After all, in a way, Damian had already taken Dick’s shape before. His ass had been prepared specifically for this.

Dick’s wrist pulled against the chains—not so much in an attempt to escape, but in an attempt to control the sensations he was feeling as every hot inch of Damian’s ass swallowed him more and more. Dick’s head was leaned back against the reclined chair, eyes on the ceiling instead of Damian’s face, at the slow, wet slide of Damian’s ass swallowing him.

When Damian was finally seated fully on Dick’s cock, Dick relaxed.

He breathed in. Everything around him was so hot. He didn’t realize how much he had been sweating until that moment, feeling the sheen near his temples. His eyelids lowered, the headrest propped just enough for him to see Damian on top of him. His vest wide open, his spine curved, hands still bound behind his back. The boy was simply breathing, catching his breath, even though it had been taken long ago. And he was looking up at Dick. Expression weary, the corners of his eyes wet.

And yet, there was still some spark there. Something curious in his eyes.

Dick’s eyes travelled lower. Down the line of the parted clothes. Damian’s body, toned and strong but still graced with the rounded edges and baby fat that was inevitable with his age. The soft stomach leading down to where Damian’s legs spread and their bodies met.

Damian’s erection had sprung back to life, miraculously. And even though Dick knew firsthand how easy it was to become aroused despite the feeling of disgust, he understood what he was seeing. He understood the sudden stillness and complacency in Damian’s body, outside of physical exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” Damian said.

The lighting was dim, and with Damian’s body shadowed over his, it felt almost like they were the only ones in the room. Dick slowly forgot about everything else. Who had brought them there, why they were there, what they were doing. He could only focus on the comforting warmth of Damian’s body, snug and gripping him. Their eyes locked.

Dick could feel it. Damian’s body moving of its own accord. Grinding down onto his cock. Dick’s eyelids fluttered and he breathed shallowly, the flush returning to his cheeks. The desire growing for this boy swelling up inside of his chest once again.

“This isn’t how I imagined it—”Damian said once again, and Dick wished he’d stop talking and yet he was hanging on every word. Damian’s voice was husky, almost raspy after the usage of his throat, but the feeling of desire mellowed the edges of his words into something almost pure.

“But I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Damian said, and he pushed back on Dick’s cock in a way that wrenched out the groan that had been sitting in the back of Dick’s throat.

Dick had never been inside anybody like he was inside Damian. No one had ever felt remotely similar. And God, it was so fucked up, but Dick knew it had been _made_ for him.

This was all for him. It was fucked up, but it was all for him—

Damian was riding him now. The chain links around his neck rattled with every movement. The insufferable plastic of the seat squeaking in the background. Dick didn't listen to any of it—he only focused on the tight, wet heat surrounding his cock. He found himself moving his hips, pushing up into Damian—to which Damian moaned, his hole clenching tight around Dick, and _God_ —

“Keep doing that,” Dick gasped, the words slipping out of him. And Damian did it again—his body leaning back ever so slightly, back arching, just enough to change the angle—hole gripping onto Dick’s cock as he slipped in _deeper_ now.

“ _Fuck_ —”Dick cursed loudly, Damian’s wanton cry matching his voice. Damian’s whole body was shaking now, trembling as he bounced on Dick’s cock. Dick bucking up into him the best he could while still strapped to the chair. And now he was pulling on the confines—not because he wanted to grab Damian and run, but because he wanted to grip onto Damian’s hips and pull him down. To fuck him properly. To thrust inside of him until he was crying and screaming and he was so used that he would never be able to forget the shape of Dick’s cock. _His_ cock, no one else’s, no matter how convincing the imitation.

Talon’s ejaculate kept Dick slick, allowing Damian to fall back onto him just as easily every time. Their bodies meeting, the sounds of their sex increasing. Dick can smell sex and sweat in the air and ge felt a fever spreading through his body and he just wanted _more_. He wanted to taste the bead of sweat rolling down Damian’s neck and strip the vest off all the way and tug on the metal collar. He wanted to fill Damian up, making him so sloppy and wet.

“So good,” Dick said, and he meant it. The words fall out of him, because they’re way past pretenses now. Way past the boundaries where Dick can’t compliment Damian without being mocked by the boy in return. Way past the boundaries of Damian’s defenses and feigned disinterest. Way past pretending that neither of them had wanted this for longer than they had any right to. “You’re so good for me, Damian.”

Damian’s cock was flushed, rubbing up against Dick’s abdomen. Damian was pushing back and forth, between lowering himself on Dick’s cock and rubbing his erection against Dick’s body. The head of his cock his leaking. He’s whining now. They haven’t been fucking for long, _they_ hadn’t, but Damian had been teased for longer. His cock was twitching now, pressed between the dual sensations, body overly sensitive.

“Come for me, Damian,” Dick said, in a way that he knew only he could command him. Using the last bit of control he had, in a situation where he was overpowered. And it worked. In seconds, Damian’s hole was tightening.

Damian cried out, his body weakening. Falling forward as his hips stilled, legs trembling as seed leaked out of his cock and onto Dick’s body—some on the ripped remnants of his uniform, some on the barely exposed skin. His second orgasm was weaker but lasted longer than the first, body shaking and trembling and wet eyes shut tight. His voice went quiet as the breath was taken out of him, whereas Dick just groaned louder as Damian tightened impossibly around him. Milking Dick’s cock. And Dick almost came but the whole thing was just too fast. And he was on the edge, the _very_ edge, but it was not enough.

Damian, exhausted, falls forward. Body landing on top of Dick’s, head buried in Dick’s chest. Dick hasn’t come and God, he wanted to so bad—wanted it so bad that his cock is pulsing inside of Damian, balls aching for release. But Damian was breathing lightly, catching his breath, body rising and falling on top of Dick’s, and it felt like this is the closest they’ve ever been. So Dick doesn't dare demand more from Damian, who had already been through enough.

It was quiet in the room, save for the sounds of their breathing, for a good while. Then—

“ _Nnh_ —”Damian flinched, and Dick flinched as well. Dick felt the intrusion too—slender digits against his cock, making the tight space even more cramped. He heard Damian’s loud whine, head burying itself against Dick’s chest.

“Stop!” Dick said at once. “You’re hurting him.”

“He’s used to pain,” Talon said, with no particular emotion.

It was hurting Dick too. Talon’s gloved fingers were penetrating Damian, the digits feeling rough against Dick’s cock, knuckles digging against him. Dick was still hard—so hard—but it was difficult to get back to that state of near-ecstasy as Talon prodded Damian with his fingers alongside Dick’s cock.

When Talon pushed in a third finger, Damian screamed hoarsely and started to rise—but Talon used his other arm to shove him back down. Now the panic was slowly beginning to return to Dick, drowning out the haziness that had clouded his mind.

“Knock it off!” Dick screamed at him, but Talon didn’t even so much as look at him. His gaze was focused on Damian’s lower half, expression almost calculating. Damian was cursing between gritted teeth, voice broken up into strangled groans as Talon forcefully opened him up impossibly wider.

This continued for longer than it should have. Dick stayed half hard—but only because of the heat and tightness around his cock. Everything else was terrifying and uncomfortable. And when the time finally came—when Talon finally climbed up onto the chair with him, Dick was at a loss of what to do.

No. This was impossible.

Whatever Talon was doing, it wasn’t impossible.

Damian would _literally_ break—

Damian was still against Dick’s chest, his breathing short and shallow. Dick couldn’t see his face but he could sense the anxiety in the way Damian shifted around uncomfortably on top of him. He had to have been afraid. Hell, even Dick was terrified—

Talon pushed Damian down, deeper against Dick’s chest. Damian’s lower half was lifted toward the tip of Dick’s cock, and Dick felt a separate kind of heat pressed against his erection.

“You can’t do this,” Dick said. He wasn’t even yelling anymore. He felt like begging. “You’ll hurt him.”

Talon pressed in anyways.

Damian gave a short cry as Talon forcefully pushed his cock in—and that was it.

Dick focused on Damian, slowly realizing the mistake in his words. It wasn’t hurting Damian. After the preparation of Talon’s fingering, Damian was past the breaking point. He could adjust to their cocks, despite how painful it would be. And with how wet he was, it seemed that he was hardly in pain at all. He showed a great discomfort, and even then, that was lost in the rest of his feelings. Exhaustion, a slowly returning pleasure indicated by the erection pressing against Dick’s stomach.

Dick wondered _how_. But at this point, it was getting harder to think. His cock was already swelling back to its full size. Talon was sliding in now, his smooth cock far more pleasurable than his prying fingers.

As Talon pushed in, Damian’s head snapped back, trying to lift himself away—struggling against the movement of their erections pushing inside of him.

Dick got a look at his face, which was burning. His expression was strained, his hairline sweating from the exertion. But despite the overwhelming pain he must have been feeling, his eyes just looked dazed and unthinking. The face of someone beyond exhaustion, to the point of near-numbness. Maybe even on the edge of blacking out.

“Oh my God,” Dick murmured, after what seemed like the longest minute of Dick’s life—after Talon had _finally_ stilled. Damian let out the breath he had been holding. The edge of Damian’s exhale seemed sharp, as if he was trying to remember to breathe. Dick couldn’t believe it—Talon had actually done it. With both him and Dick inside, Dick felt like his cock was being squeezed. He couldn’t see Damian’s hole but he could hardly imagine how it’d look, his small body stuffed with two cocks.

Damian had stopped yelling. As Talon pulled in and out, Damian finally fell back onto Dick’s body, lying flushed against him while Talon controlled the pace. Dick could see Talon over Damian’s body but Talon wasn’t looking at him—he was more focused on Damian’s lower half, watching himself push in and out of the boy.  Dick could feel the hot cock pressed against his, creating friction against his own member, the heads rubbing together, all while trapped inside Damian’s stretched wide hole. The combination of lube and come kept Talon sliding and Dick found himself laying there, hands twisting in their confines, eyes rolling back, as tremors of pleasure ran down his body.

He had never felt pleasure like this.

It almost hurt, and yet it felt so good. Damian was vice tight around him. Dick had reached the point where he was no longer thinking about the collapsed boy on his chest. He was pushing his hips up, desperately, as well as he could—chasing after the pleasure. Chasing after the friction and heat. He didn’t even care that he was sharing a space with Talon, he could only focus on the pleasure coursing through his body and the heat and wetness surrounding his cock and the friction grinding up against him. The fire underneath his skin was rising, he was rotating his hips faster now, Talon matching his speed. Talon’s voice was low groans, the hint of something wild and unhinged underneath his voice, and Dick felt moans roll off of his tongue as well.

“Damian,” he gasped, the name slipping out of him, even though he could barely focus. “Damian.”

Damian was unresponsive. He laid on Dick’s body, legs spread, as Dick and Talon pounded into him.

Dick felt his breath growing shorter, familiar sensations running up and down his body. Trembling. He wasn’t going to last much longer—

He came, the friction of Talon's cock pushing him further and further into his orgasm. Dick’s body clenched up as he came—toes curling, wrists pulling against the chains, a curse slipping past his lips as he unloaded his come into Damian.

Talon didn’t stop. Dick’s cock was still trapped inside of Damian’s body, eyes clenching shut every time Talon thrusted inside and pressed up against him, his disgust increasing as the thick, sticky ejaculate inside of Damian’s hole ran over his cock. He slowly felt the heat and sweat trapped inside of his suit, combined with Damian’s damp hair on his chest. Their bodies rocking as Talon took his damn time thrusting into Damian, fucking him as he pleased.

As Dick regained his senses, he dared to glance down at Damian. Somehow, somewhere, the guilt had went away—even though now, he was possibly guiltier than he had ever been. It wasn’t that he didn’t realize he had done something wrong. He did. It was just that he was too exhausted to care. He just gazed down at the body resting against his chest, and they stayed still while Talon picked up his pace—finally climaxing with a groan. The hot load made Dick’s sensitive member twitch inside of Damian.

With an almost content sigh, Talon pulled out. Dick rolled his head lazily, staring as Talon pulled on the back of Damian’s vest—bringing him into an upright position. Talon reached between his legs, tugging on his cock. Trying to make him orgasm for the third time.

At this, Damian finally protested—but he made no move to fight him back, making his complaints heard through soft whines and low curses. After what seemed like an eternity, Talon brought Damian to his third orgasm. Damian cried out, his hips and cock trembling, but he did not ejaculate. The dry orgasm was short and Damian didn’t even appear to enjoy it, seeming almost drained completely of energy.

Dick had barely caught his breath when Talon suddenly picked up Damian, pulling him off of Dick. At this, Dick was revived—not sure what Talon was planning when he seemed to be walking away with Damian.

“Wait—”he started, his heartrate beginning to pick up.

Talon ignored him.

“Where are you taking him?” Dick immediately demanded, but his voice felt hoarse.

“Nowhere,” Talon said, and sure enough, he laid Damian unceremoniously on the floor. Damian turned once, as if trying to get up on his knees, but he quit halfway through. His body rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, copious amounts of seed dripping from between his legs down to his thighs.

Suddenly, Talon turned in Dick’s direction, calmly walking towards him. “You were my true target. The cute little bird was just a novelty I picked up along the way.”

Before Dick could ask what he meant, Talon suddenly grabbed his chin and crushed his lips against his. Before Dick could even react, Talon had already pulled away. Even so, Dick could feel Talon’s smirk pressed against his lips.

“ _Oh_ ,” he breathed, hot against Dick’s skin. “Owlman is going to _love_ you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Maybe one day, if I'm trash enough, I will write a continuation with Owlman. But I have other projects that I should be focusing on instead so I don't want to think about a sequel right now.
> 
> Speaking of other projects, if any of my regular readers read this and choose to unsubscribe, I will understand. :')


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